


Surrogate

by adavice



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Birth, Bottom Will, F/F, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Labour, M/M, Morning Sickness, Mpreg, Panic Attacks, Pregnant Will Graham, Vomiting, Will Graham Knows, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, abigail’s dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:36:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27118307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adavice/pseuds/adavice
Summary: Instead of the pig being used as a surrogate for the verger baby, mason uses Will. Hannibal has to look after him before and after they escape the mansion, which is difficult for Will. Pregnancy has brought of feelings of loss for Abigail. Don’t worry there is a happy healthy baby at the end! Plus a bit of pregnant sex between the murder husbands.
Relationships: Alana Bloom & Margot Verger, Alana Bloom/Margot Verger, Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 113





	Surrogate

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t mind where you think the baby comes out, you do you dolls. Everything apart from the pregnancy is pretty much canon so I’ve alluded to murder, cannibalism etc. but no one is eaten in this. Sorry about any typos etc. I didn’t have a proofreader. ❤️🩸

Will and Hannibal were currently imprisoned at the Verger mansion, awaiting whatever fate beheld them. Until then however, Mason made it his duty to torture them however he saw fit. And he saw fit to do a lot of things, considering he'd lost half his face to them. So when Cordell came to collect Will for a ‘surgery’ he assumed it was to take his pound of flesh as Mason had promised. Utterly powerless to do anything and depressed at the loss of his freedom, he made no effort to resist as he was marched down the halls of the mansion. On the way to the makeshift theatre, he passed by the pen where Hannibal was being kept, tied and naked, along with some of the porcine population on the grounds. Much as he wanted to hate the man, he couldn't help but think of him often, missing his comforting presence despite his being a threat. The feeling between them was electric and manic, not helped by Hannibal’s constant pull between wanting to experiment on those around him and his softer side; his urge to comfort and heal. Will despised how much he wanted it; that when he’d remembered seizing in Hannibal’s dining room, instead of being bitter about how it had come to pass, he clung to the feeling of the hand on his cheek. He wondered whether Hannibal’s presence at the mansion meant that he was not as scared as he ought to be; that the evil inside Hannibal would be directed towards those who wished to hurt _his_ prey.

Cordell pushed him roughly into the operating theatre where Mason sat observing. As he was laid along the cold, hard table, he hissed as his wrists were strapped, the bruises from his confinement purple and black. When the process was done Mason wheeled over and laughed, a strange mess of a wheeze punctuated by staccato Ha Ha Ha's. 

He gave his 'explanation' of the situation to see the look on his captive's face, rather than to prepare him for what lay ahead. 

‘My sister and I need a child; I having so…’ He shrugged and rolled his eyes, ‘ungraciously stamped out your seed. I thought you might still like to be involved. A surprise for Margot if you will.’

He poked hard into Will bare abdomen as though assessing the quality of a cut of meat. How Will wished he could be menacing rather than constantly, well, weird; it would be far easier that way to predict his future that way. With Cordell however, it was a lot easier to feel pure rage as he leered over him. From this angle he could see the stitches from when Will had taken a chunk out of him. His mouth almost began salivating as he recalled the metallic taste and the look on Hannibal's face after he'd sunk his teeth in. His last thought before everything went black was of how he wanted to see that face again. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Though he was still heavily sedated and confused when he awoke he was at least partially able to take in his surroundings. The wallpaper was a deep red, with almost black skirting. It was surprisingly bare for a room of its size; the four poster bed he lay on seeming to float untethered in the middle of it. As he tried to turn to gather more information about where he was, he became more aware of a growing pain in his abdomen. Overwhelmed and exhausted, he closed his eyes and resolved to sleep. Whatever Mason had done to him was bound to be bad, why figure out what it was right now. Ignorance is bliss as they say.

Will’s sleep however was far from it, being better described as fitful and feverish. At some point he heard what sounded like Verger talking to someone. ‘You’re the doctor. He’s your responsibility for the next nine months.’ But Will was too out of it to consider what that meant as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

Hours, or maybe days later, he awoke to find Hannibal pressing a cool cloth onto his forehead. It was certainly soothing but any relief he might have felt from it was quickly overshadowed by a throbbing, aching pain radiating out from his middle. Sleep was going to be impossible to return to now, despite his exhaustion and he was beginning to be curious about why he was still alive. His voice was hoarse as he croaked out,

‘What happened?’

Will saw the briefest of smiles flit across Hannibal’s face, clearly glad he was awake.

'You may be in pain, and there is a chance you’ll develop an infection; Cordell did a subpar job. The pain relief won’t be enough to keep you comfortable but it’ll take the edge off.’

Will repeated his question more forcefully this time, unsure as to why was Hannibal skirting around the answer. From the way Hannibal tensed he could tell that what he had to say wasn't going to be something he wanted to hear. 

‘Cordell inserted an artificial womb into your abdomen.'

It took a moment for Will to comprehend what had just been said. Mason was a sadist certainly, but surely not to such an extreme. If he were though, there was only one real reason why Mason would have instructed him to do that, and it made Will's heart race. 

'What, why?' The words seeming to spill over each other in an effort to escape his mouth. 

Concern and sympathy resided on Hannibal's face though he tried in vain to show some form of professional detachment, as though he were breaking a cancer diagnosis to a patient. ‘You are carrying the offspring of Mason and Margot. He hopes that the pregnancy will be carried to term and an heir be provided for the Verger line.’

Will’s stomach dropped, his eyes widening as he reached for the dressing and attempted to sit up. Hannibal placed a hand gently but firmly on his chest encouraging him to lie back down.

‘No, no, no, no. Take it out, get rid of it.’ He pleaded, panicked. 

The walls were closing in, and as they moved closer the air was being squeezed out of the room. His hands and lips began to buzz from a lack of oxygen as his vision began to lose focus. God, was he dying? Was he having a heart attack, or a pulmonary embolism? Maybe he wanted to die, better that than whatever was going on now. 

Through his haze he heard Hannibal say, ‘Will try to be calm. You’ll rip your stitches, and it isn’t good for the child.’ That was a mistake; reminding him of the creature within. It only made him once again try and reach for the wound, as though he might be able to tear it from his body then and there.

Hannibal reached over, knowing how Will craved his touch, and took his shaking hands. Though Will tried to shake free Hannibal held tight. 

‘Will, I need you to focus on your breathing. You are having a panic attack that will pass, and quicker if you listen to me.' 

All of a sudden Will was aware that he was breathing fast, too fast. But there was a vice grip around his chest; he couldn't possibly breathe deeper. His hands were being placed on someone's chest, a chest that rose and fell impossibly slow. 

'Follow my breathing Will.'

Ok, he could do this; all he needed to do was copy. He tried two deep breaths before losing control once more, hot tears spilling down his cheeks. 

'In and out Will, in and out.' 

Will grabbed at Hannibal, pulling him in towards his body, still shaking and sobbing. With every breath though he felt his faculties starting to return to him. He could feel the warm embrace of Hannibal's arms, his smell, changed by his time in captivity but still there. He closed his eyes and focussed on just being there, being safe in his arms. ————————————————————————————————————————

When Will was calm he lay staring at the wall facing away from Hannibal, embarrassed that once again he’d needed comforting from the man who’d ruined his life.

Hannibal, ever the talker, filled the silence by explaining the events of the past 3 days.

‘He put you in the pen with me to start with. You were out of your mind with pain and at great risk of developing sepsis. I insisted that you be brought here, lest he want to lose the child.’

‘You wanted to see the outcome of this experiment.’ 

Hannibal paused, feeling that barb distinctly.

‘Not if it causes you pain. Moving you here made you safer and by simple association made the fetus more so as well.’

Will didn’t know what to say. His words sounded true but he couldn't help but shake the feeling that this was all of too much interest to Hannibal. He’d been vulnerable once before in Florence and Hannibal’s ‘care’ was a ploy to flavour the meat of his brain. How do you get back from that?

———————————————————————————————————————

It was clear that the embryo took hold when Will started to become nauseous. Mason was not inclined to provide anything beyond the bare minimum that would keep Will alive so it was entirely lucky that this room had an en-suite. At first Will was too weak to move at more than a snail’s pace and would be sick into a small bowl by the side of the bed. Though it was embarrassing to have to do when Hannibal was around, it was altogether worse when he had to leave at night. The sickness never left him and being half asleep and in the dark (there was no bedside light) was a recipe for disaster. 

One morning, Hannibal entered the room to find Will laying in his own sick. He took quick stock of the situation and moved over to help Will without much fuss. When he saw the tears in his eyes he wanted to scoop him up and hold him forever but he knew he must behave rationally.

‘I couldn’t make it to the bathroom fast enough.’ He whispered, ashamed of what had become of him. 

Hannibal didn't need an explanation, his first priority was getting Will comfortable. 

‘Are you well enough to stand? You can sit in the chair while I clean up.’

Will nodded his head slowly and extended an arm to have Hannibal help him out of bed. He supported most of his weight as he winced with every step. There was no bath or shower in the ensuite so Hannibal wet a towel and eased Will’s dirty top over his head. Cordell’s cut looked very much like Will’s previous scar. The wound was bright red; a cruel reminder of what had passed between them, though neither of them felt like bringing it up at that moment. 

As Hannibal cleaned him up Will whispered,

‘What’s wrong with me?’

‘It’s hyperemesis gravidarum. Vomiting and nausea in pregnancy that goes beyond normal limits. I may have to give you fluids if you continue to be unable to keep anything down.’ 

This was a possibility that was becoming increasingly likely; these days a sip of water was enough to start him retching. He looked gaunt and pale and eating required so much assistance and encouragement that Hannibal often felt as though he was force feeding him. 

‘I don’t think I can stand it much longer.’ Will said with his head hanging, a tear rolling down his nose.

Hannibal lifted his chin, forcing him to look into his eyes.

‘I will get us out of here.’

————————————————————————————————————————

The nausea continued to be intense until he was 16 weeks at which point it eased though never fully vanished. Throughout it all Hannibal stayed and cared for him; feeding him crackers and bread, rubbing his back as he retched, stroking his sweaty curls out off of his forehead.

Much as he was loathe to admit it, Will's response to the doors opening in the morning was almost pavlovian; his heart rising, a smile appearing on his face. So when some weeks later Cordell marched into the room followed by guards who grabbed Will’s wrists forcefully, he was especially confused and angry.

‘Where’s Hannibal?’

‘You won’t be seeing your little boyfriend anymore.’

Will didn’t know what made him madder, that he’d called Hannibal his boyfriend or that they’d separated them. No matter what the cause, all he could think to say was,

‘Fuck you.’

That earned him a slap to the face. It smarted and caused Will to grimace but nothing more. 

‘You’re lucky I’m not supposed to do permanent damage.’ He spat, before spinning on his heels to face the door. 

'Take your time would you' 

Will had some company when it came to being on the receiving end of Cordell's ire, he thought, as an ultrasound machine accompanied by a frightened looking man, who Will assumed was the technician, entered the room.

His hands shook slightly as he squeezed the gel onto the wand. Where had they got him from, Will wondered, was there some threat hanging over his head to keep this secret? When he turned to ask if Will would be ok to lift his top, Cordell had already pulled it up roughly. He couldn't give a flying fuck about consent. 

At least the tech looked apologetic. 

When the screen lit up Will resisted the urge to look. He wouldn't have been able to see anything anyway; in just another stroke of inspired cruelty it was turned away from him. But they couldn't turn off his hearing and soon the room was filled with the sound of a fast heartbeat, like horse hooves on the ground. 

‘What’s taking so long?’ Cordell demanded. ‘Boy or girl?’

‘It’s just in an awkward position, I should be able to tell in a minute.’ 

Will felt like grinning; already the child was managing to thwart Verger.

‘There. It’s… a boy.’

————————————————————————————————————————

The doors to the room opened and in walked Alana Bloom.

Though their relationship wasn’t always an easy one, Will was glad to see her.

‘Alana! How did you get in here?’ ‘I bribed the guard.’ She said matter of factly as she perched herself on the edge of the bed.

It was clear that her stay at the mansion was a slightly more comfortable one than was being afforded to him. Occasionally he would catch glimpses of her as he gazed out onto the grounds; her long black hair cascading down her back, never seeming to be even the slightest bit out of place no matter the weather. Her style had also changed somewhat since he last knew her and he wondered whether it was an outward reflection of her coming into her own power; the lines of her outfits sharper, the colours deeper and more striking. 

‘How are you?’ 

Will was surprised that she actually seemed to care about his response; he would have forgiven her if she was simply there to spy for the Verger's. 

'About as well as one could expect: tired, sore, and really fucking confused.' 

Alana looked slightly ashamed, lowering her eyes and biting her lower lip. Guilt pricked in his chest, though he wasn't exactly sure why. Sure, that had sounded bitchy, but then again he couldn't exactly be called ungrateful for something he hadn't asked for. Still, before she had a chance to respond he spoke again, feeling like he should show some interest in something outside himself. 

'How’s Margot?' 

Alana's ruby red lips turned up at that. 

‘I’m the right person to ask actually. We’re together, though of course Mason doesn’t know.’

The momentary surprise that struck him was quickly washed away by an odd sense of disappointment in himself. All those rides he'd seen them on together, all those furtive glances. Even at a distance he should have been able to take an educated guess at what was going on. 

‘I guess congratulations are in order then; you’ll be a mother soon.’

‘Does that mean….’

‘He’s Margot’s son, and therefore by extension your’s. If I make it through’ He scoffed as he cradled his bump, ‘he’ll go back to you.’ 

She squeezed his leg, her voice catching in her throat.

‘Thank you.’

Fortuitously at that moment the fetus seemed to wake up, sending ripples of movement along his belly. Though it wasn't anything unusual to him at this point, he still instinctively moved his hands to where the limbs seemed to swim inside. 

'What's it like?'

Will's raised his brow and was on the brink of saying something about it feeling like an invasion, when he looked at her face. Empathy disorder or no, he clearly hadn't been paying attention. Well, part of him had; his guilt and interest in the wellbeing of Margot suddenly making sense, but he'd been too wrapped up in his own self pity to notice. Alana had wanted this for herself. This child was half Margot, but had no relation to her. In normal circumstances, she might have been the one to carry their child, and though it wasn't his fault, Will was taking that from her. 

'Here.' He took her hand and replaced his with it. 'It feels different all the time. Sometimes I'm being pushed, sometimes it's sharp, sometimes it feels like there's been a seismic shift.' 

He might have felt awkward about being touched like that were there not such indescribable wonder on Alana's face. 

'He seems mostly to be crepuscular, plus he really likes when I eat or...' He hesitated to say the next part. 'when I get emotional.' 

Alana's eyes flicked up to meet his.

'And are you right now?'

He glanced away, voice becoming quieter.

'I guess I just always thought of this as a punishment, something to be endured before Mason kills me. The bonding aspect of it I hadn't actively considered until now.'

Moving to sit up, she said with no hint of hesitation, 'Consider him a surrogate son. I know it's not the same, but you can still be part of his life.'

'What little I have left.' He half laughed. 

‘You won't die here; when you’re well enough we’ll make it easier for you and Hannibal to escape.’

Something in her tone made him believe that it was a certainty, and not a hope. That was enough for him, he didn’t need to know the specifics of how, only being interested in one thing.

‘Why did they take him?’

‘He requested that you be able to leave the room. Walk around a little. Mason thought that since you’d been getting stronger it was part of a plan for your escape. He thinks that you’re out of the woods enough to have Cordell supervise your health.’

‘Ha. Cordell is always approximately 5 minutes away from killing me himself. Though I suppose it’s the same with Hannibal.’

Alana gave a sympathetic smile and was about to say something before a noise in the hall made them both start.

‘That’s my cue.’ She stood to leave, gave his hand a squeeze and said, ‘Soon Will, soon.’

Will was once again alone, but clung to the thought of Hannibal trying to make life easier for him, even at his own expense. Perhaps it was time for a reconciliation after all.

————————————————————————————————————————

Will was really big now. The child within him was heavy and at 34 weeks it would have been difficult enough to sleep without Mason coming in at all hours of the day to do ‘inspections’.

He would have Cordell hold Will’s arms, and press his hand into the swell of the baby as Will squirmed, attempting to get free. Though these attempts often made his sciatica or heartburn worse, he still felt obliged to put up a fight. 

‘Mmm, I’ve often theorised that the strength of an offspring can be told by how much it takes up of its mother.’

‘I’m not one of your pigs.’ Will spat, his anger waking the baby, setting off a frenzy of kicks which only served to delight Mason more. 

‘Quite right.’ He said feeling the legs of the fetus. ‘They don't often look so drained. I hope that’s a mark of the strength of the child and not a reflection of your weakness. I would be so disappointed if you died before our arranged time.’

Will looked drained for many reasons, but mostly because he was having real trouble sleeping. His nightmares had returned since Hannibal had left. He saw him held aloft, blood trailing down his body as faceless figures stabbed into his flesh. The silence was deafening; how he wished Hannibal would scream, prove to him that he was alive. Maybe the blood that flowed around Will’s feet now was only there because of gravity, that Hannibal wasn’t bleeding, but being bled. Sometimes in the dreams his eyes would open and Will would dare to hope, before he saw how clouded and empty they were. He would stumble backwards into the blackness, the blood rising higher and higher, until he slipped and fell jolting himself awake in a pool of sweat.

The overwhelming terror always woke the baby, his limbs moving as though he were trying to swim away and out of danger. So every night, he’d heave himself slowly out of bed and pace the floor, cradling his bump, and willing his passenger back to sleep.

The trouble was that he couldn’t be sure of whether Hannibal really was alive or not. He’d swallowed his pride a few times to enquire after his wellbeing but there had been no answer either way. Perhaps Mason would keep him alive so they could see each other die, but then again Hannibal was a threat and a nuisance that probably would have been easier to kill rather than keeping him around. These thoughts brought the taste of bile into and not infrequently out of his mouth.

Once the baby was settled he’d stand by the window and let the moonlight wash over him, imagining it was the water of the stream. He’d close his eyes, breathe deeply, and let his mind take him to somewhere pleasant. The night after Mason had worried about his dying before it was convenient, his mind palace took on the form of that room, months prior in the summer. Hannibal had been sitting on the floor bathed in the sunlight streaming in from the window, eyes closed and peaceful. Will had watched him for several minutes, the movements of his eyes under their lids, the twitching of the corners of his mouth, before asking,

‘Where do you go?’

Hannibal’s eyes opened slowly.

‘My mind palace. One can travel the world from the comfort of one's own room. Though it is a shame I’m not able to sample the food.’

‘You think you're hilarious don't you.’

Hannibal flashed him a wicked grin.

‘Do you ever go back to Florence?’ 

‘I told you I’d remember that time forever didn't I?’

————————————————————————————————————————

About a week later Will and Hannibal’s presence was ‘requested’ at Mason’s dinner table. The nightmares hadn’t come to fruition; Hannibal was alive, and although their reunion after near to 15 weeks would be soured by the presence of their captor, it was hard not to look forward to it.

The other reason he looked forward to the evening was that he hadn’t been out of his room since he’d woken up there months ago. At least in the BSHCI he’d been poked and prodded by those who wanted to get inside his mind, or to use him. Here he was merely a vessel to be disposed of after he’d fulfilled his task. His mind palace had provided him with the company of Abigail and the dogs but even that had its limits.

He’d been measured previously for what he now knew to be a suit, though at the time he’d wondered if it was part of Mason’s weird theory about the strength and size of his heir. He would have looked dashing in the trim blue suit prior to this but now he thought he just looked ridiculous, his bump big and round enough to eat his dinner off of.

‘Ah well’ he thought as he massaged the top of it, ‘at least Hannibal will look nice in his.’

——————————————————————————————————————

Hannibal was already in his seat when Will was tied into his, and although his expression indicated nothing untoward about his experience there, the bruising around his eyes and split lip told a different story. Still, Will had been right, he looked nice in his suit, a burgundy number that fortuitously complimented the wounds on his face.

Alana and Margot sat towards the end of the table nearest Mason, seemingly unconcerned about the state of affairs they found themselves in. Mason did most of the talking as per usual, in his own oblivious world until he noticed that Will had barely touched his meal.

‘Eat up little piggy, you need it.’ He snorted. ‘Though it looks like that’s all you’ve been doing whilst you’ve been here.’

At this point comments like that hardly mattered to Will, but it caught Hannibal's attention.

’Now now Mason, didn’t your father ever teach you not to be rude to handsome guests.’

Handsome.

It made Will’s heart swell to hear, though it did also make his ears and cheeks burn. Mason tilted his head to indicate Hannibal should be punished for that remark, though he didn’t seem to be concerned as the man approached him.

When he was close enough Hannibal moved swiftly, pulling a blade from his sleeve as he slipped from his restraints. This was it, their plan was coming together. The man crumbled to the floor as blood began to stain his clothes, but Hannibal had already moved on, pushing his chair backwards to attack the others behind him. He moved swiftly and with the grace of a dancer, the grunts of those he felled serving as a kind of music.

In the ensuing fight Will’s chair had been knocked over by one of the guards falling backwards into him. His head struck the side of the chair Hannibal had pushed out of the way as he fell, causing him to black out. Even through his enraged lust for blood, it took everything in Hannibal not to rush over. Instead he focused on ruthlessly stabbing, killing, and breaking his way through the men surrounding him, allowing the women to wheel Mason away to his fate.

————————————————————————————————————————

When Will woke up he was back home in his bed in Wolf Trap. It seemed so normal that he almost thought the previous 8 months had been a dream, but looking down he could see that he was definitely still pregnant. Hannibal was sat writing in a notebook beside the bed.

‘Good morning.’ He smiled as though it were any other day. 

‘How did we get here?’ Hannibal smirked, remembering the guards he’d stabbed with the blade Alana had slipped him. The way she and Margot had held Mason’s head under the water as he’d squirmed, before succumbing to a painful and deserved death.

‘I carried you, heavy as you are. And look, I got the dogs back from Jimmy.’ He petted the bed and Wilson jumped up to be beside Will. He sniffed his big round belly and was met with a kick to the nose. Will laughed for the first time in months, stroking his side to ease the discomfort, though not finding himself bothered by it.

‘I was confused too buddy, but you’ll get used to it.’ He turned his attention to Hannibal, petting Wilson’s head.

‘Did you say I was heavy?’ ‘I did struggle to find something that would fit you in amongst your clothes here.’ 

Will blushed, noticing that his top didn’t do its job massively well. ‘It would seem so.’

————————————————————————————————————————

They passed the time with relative ease though but something still felt unresolved between them. Their adopted daughter had been on Will’s mind more and more frequently of late. Instead of Hannibal hanging from hooks, his nightmares were now filled with images of Abigail sinking out of his reach, of her blood spraying his face over and over. It seemed that now he knew Hannibal was alive, he had found something else to worry about. He would wake and feel the presence of the cannibal grate on him, as though he needed him to be alive, but not in his immediate vicinity. One day as he was working on his lures he was overcome by thoughts of how he was supposed to teach Abigail to fish. Perhaps spurred on by his hormones, he decided to say something where normally he’d let it pass.

‘Do you remember what she used to say about working at the FBI?’

Hannibal stopped sketching.

‘That wouldn’t have worked out very well for us.’

‘It’s not funny Hannibal. She had dreams. She could have had a second chance with us.’

‘Do you feel as though this child will lose out on his dreams because of his association with us?’

Will felt his face go hot with anger bubbling within him.

‘This isn’t about the baby. This is about Abigail. We let her down. Just like Garret Jacob Hobbs’

‘I miss her too you know.’

Will hadn’t really started off being mad but that really rubbed him the wrong way.

‘Says the man who slit her throat. You know if I weren’t in such a state I wouldn’t have you here. I wouldn’t even be in this situation if it weren’t for you.’

‘You found me.’

‘Because I wanted to get back what we’d lost! I thought maybe you’d changed, but you clearly haven’t. No apology, no remorse. She wasn’t rude or a threat or in your way.’ His words were spilling over each other, as he became more animated and loud.

‘Will try to calm down.’

‘I’ll calm down when you leave!’ He was breathing heavily as he stared at Hannibal. The man’s brows were furrowed but he clearly wasn’t mad, only shocked.

‘Just leave please.’

‘I don’t think it’s wise in…’

‘Jesus I don’t mean forever, I just can’t do this domestic bliss thing anymore.’

Hannibal silently stood and made his way to the door, slipping on his coat. As it closed behind him the dogs began to whimper, the noise of the pain between the two men made audible.

————————————————————————————————————————

Hannibal slept upstairs, away from Will after that, but often found he couldn’t rest. He was so close to having all he wanted but so close to losing it all over again. Occasionally he’d sit at the top of the stairs listening to Will whimpering in his sleep. Though he desperately wanted to comfort away those sounds, Will had been clear: he didn’t want him around.

One night however, he was awoken by Will shouting, ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!’.

Boundaries be damned; the man he loved was in distress. He bounded down the stairs finding Will writhing about on the bed, the dogs shivering in the corner of the room. He knelt on the sweat soaked sheets, placing his hand on Will’s chest.

‘Will, it’s ok. You’re having a nightmare, wake up.’ His eyes snapped open, darting about, the whites shining in the moonlight. When he saw Hannibal he slapped at him.

‘You killed her. And why?! Because I made a mistake? We could still have left. We could still have been happy, she could have been happy.’

His words became more slurred as he began to cry.

Something inside Hannibal broke at that moment. He’d felt some guilt over his actions before but nothing of this scale. He couldn’t remember the last time that he ached like this and somehow despite that he knew that the only cure was Will’s touch. Though his arms were still pushing against him Hannibal wrapped his arms around the smaller man to lie beside him.

’I’m sorry.’ Tears began to roll down his cheeks at an unprecedented rate for him. ‘To you, to her, forgive me.’

At first Will resisted his hold; he’d been manipulated before by Hannibal’s tears but soon he relented, letting Hannibal press his damp cheeks into his shoulder.

Will actually calmed down first, soothed by the warmth of the body beside him and the feeling that Hannibal’s apology was genuine. He rolled over to face him, wincing as his hips protested, and told him to do the same. He got as close as he could, his bump proving to be a major obstacle, and hesitantly began to rub circles into Hannibal’s shuddering back, hushing him gently.

‘I forgive you, it’s just going to take time for me to let go.’

When the shaking stopped Will said, ‘I’m very uncomfortable like this, I need to roll over.’

Hannibal snorted, then sniffed.

‘Here, I’ll give you a hand.’

Several grunts, ah’s and breathless oh’s later the pregnant man was righted. Hannibal lay beside him, the big spoon, and Will placed his hand on his tummy.

‘See if you can get this little bugger to go to sleep.’

‘I’ll do my best.’ He delicately rubbed Will’s belly and began humming a lullaby. It was slow and smooth, reminding Will of the lazy meandering of a stream before the rain had come. 

'That's beautiful.' Will murmured. 

‘My mother used to sing it to me.’

Will would have liked to hear more about her, but for now the song was having its intended effect and soon they would all be asleep, warm and safe in each other’s arms.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was no discussion about whether Hannibal would keep sleeping in the bed after that. They both just seemed to know it was right. When Will woke at night, Hannibal would help him stand to go to the bathroom. He’d rub his back, shoulders and feet, only stopping when he would once again hear his gentle snores.

One night Will went on an extended trip to the bathroom and then the kitchen for some milk to help with his heartburn. By the time it had settled and he’d returned, Hannibal was fast asleep. Perfect, soft and handsome. Will found himself getting hard, and as he eased himself slowly into bed, a hand supporting his girth, he decided to sit up instead of lying down. From that vantage point he could admire the man laying beside him as he began to caress him. Hannibal’s eyes opened slowly and he didn’t question what was happening as he sat up to meet Will. He noticed how Will’s cock was straining against his pants but that could wait. There was a certain ease between them, as though this was predestined. They took their time kissing each other, feeling the way the other’s lips felt against their own. Neither wanting to waste this first time. Their hands gliding along each other’s bodies, Hannibal’s hand slipping under Will’s stretched t-shirt to pull it off. 

‘oof.’ Will pressed a hand to where he’d been kicked, his little occupant reminding him of his presence.

‘We shouldn't do this’ he said suddenly looking ashamed.

He hadn’t pictured any potential liaisons between them like this. He’d thought of tearing each other’s clothes off after the high of a kill, maybe something involving whips or bondage. Something sexy and forbidden. This didn't feel at all like that and that somehow made him feel so exposed. He couldn't hide within his fantasy anymore.

Hannibal placed his hands on his knees and looked into Will’s eyes. ‘You are as Madonna with Jesus; absolutely resplendent.’

Of course he couldn’t simply say, you’re hot or reach his hand down to palm at his cock and prove how good it would feel. This was better, and though he knew it was a ridiculous grandiose thing to say in the heat of passion, his heart fluttered and he pulled Hannibal into a kiss.

‘I want you so badly’ He breathed against his cheek.’But I don’t know how to do this.’

‘Let me worry about that.’

Hannibal said as he pulled Will’s top off. He kissed Will’s oversensitive chest lightly, stopping briefly to circle his tongue around the nipples. Will hissed, entirely unused to the sensation but not averse to it. He placed his hands behind himself and pushed back against Hannibal’s face, moaning loudly. Hannibal hummed as he worked his way down, pleased to get such a response. Eventually his fingers slid under the waistband of Will’s bottoms. He pulled them down, freeing his cock and allowing it to jut against the underside of his belly.

‘Jesus I’m massive.’ He said to himself as Hannibal ran his tongue along the underside of his pink member. Once at the end he circled the head and popped it in his mouth. He managed a few sucks along its length before Will shuddered,

‘Careful. I’ve wanted to do this for maybe a bit too long.’

His words went straight to Hannibal's cock, the thought of him not being able to hold off because of him only served to make him throb harder. He would have liked to keep going, to make him come and come until he was crying and overstimulated, but there would be plenty of time for that later. Instead he pulled away and placed a few kisses on his inner thighs before asking,

‘Do you want me inside you?’

‘Yes, oh god please yes’ He pleaded, pupils blown and heart racing.

'Lie down on your side.'

Will did as he was told and watched as Hannibal stripped off, gazing longingly at his form, chiseled but slightly soft. He had no idea how he got so lucky. He walked around to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers slipping his arm underneath Will’s neck. Will moaned and rocked his hips as he felt Hannibal’s hardness behind him. Hannibal lubed up his hand and grabbed his arse and massaged firmly working his way to Will’s hole. He slowly worked his way in as Will bucked and shuddered being too close to orgasm.

‘Relax. Breathe through it.’

Will gripped the sheets, not daring to touch himself least he let go. Hannibal felt the movements of his breathing against his chest assessing how fast or slow to go with his fingers. Once Will felt open enough he pressed slowly inside him. Will gasped and arched arched his neck back letting Hannibal breathe deeply into his hair. The scent of his sweat heady and musky.

The first couple of motions were shallow as Will relaxed into it and before long Hannibal had found a steady rhythm. Even though he wasn’t bottoming out Will still felt every motion. In an effort to deal with the stimulation, Will to turned his head and bit into the older man’s arm.

Hannibal gasped then laughed, ‘That shouldn’t surprise me.’

In response Will bit harder, causing Hannibal to moan with delight as he groaned sending vibrations down his arm. He just loved the thought of him making Will so desperate.

When he felt he was close he took Will’s hand from the sheet and placed it around his cock not letting go as he guided his hand up and down.

Soon Will began letting out gasps of increasing pitch before moaning as he came, 'Oh Hannibal, oh god, I love you.’

Moments later Hannibal came with a grunt, pressing his face into Will’s shoulder. They held each other for a minute or so before Will turned his head and said,

‘I know it was in the heat of the moment but I meant it.’

Hannibal slipped his hand over his bump, kissing Will’s lips. ‘I love you too.’

————————————————————————————————————————

One Autumn morning Will was out with the dogs when he began to feel tightenings around his middle. He had his hands pressed into the swell of his abdomen, feeling eternally grateful that it wasn’t cold enough to attempt to do up his coat when he felt a change in pressure. He’d read that early contractions felt a bit like period cramps, but seeing as he’d never had a period before it was difficult to judge. Still, maybe this was it. Either way it wasn't something he felt the need to mention to Hannibal. That would require turning around and interrupting breakfast preparations back at the house. He turned his attention back to the quietude of the woods, though that didn't stop him from feeling watched by the dogs. They stuck close to his feet, being unusually quiet even when they saw a squirrel in the trees.

'Go and play.' He said as he tried to wave them off. 'We are all supposed to ignore this!'

By the time he'd reached the halfway mark, ignoring them was getting to be a bit of a task. The walk (waddle?) had increased the intensity of the cramps to the point at which he was certain of their significance. He tried to be calm but part of him wanted to run and hide; this was something in a million years that he considered he would be doing.

Thankfully, he soon began to smell eggs and bacon, a welcome reminder that he wasn't alone in this endeavour. He took a deep breath as he climbed the stairs to the cabin, knowing that in all likelihood, the next time he descended them he would be minus one passenger. 

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Though Will tried to pretend all was normal, Hannibal knew exactly what was going on. One doesn't go years as an undetected serial killer cannibal without noticing every little detail of the world around you. When he finished washing up the dishes he simply stated ‘I’m going to let Alana and Margot know now.’ The four of them had agreed that the boy’s mothers didn’t need to be present at the birth, especially given how Will was such a private creature, but Hannibal figured it was common courtesy to keep them informed.

‘humpf’, Will said annoyedly, his shoulders slumping as he realised he hadn't been quite as sneaky as he would have hoped.

‘The breathing gave it away if you were wondering’ he said not looking up from his phone.

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Early labour felt long and hard, stretches of leaning over benches and chairs, swaying his hips, trying to alleviate the pressure he felt, punctuated by long showers. He wasn’t a screamer but he certainly wasn’t silent either. Hannibal was amused by how closely his moans resembled what he’d hear when they had sex.

As he entered transition Will started to weep and shake. He was leant over the table, with his head resting on his arms when he began to say to no one in particular, ‘This can’t be happening.’

From his position at Will’s back, where he was applying counter pressure, Hannibal could hear him and asked, ‘What’s happening?’

Will didn’t remove his head from his hands, only pausing when a contraction made his legs feel like they’d buckle.

‘I’m losing a family again. He wailed. ‘Abigail’s gone, and this baby will go soon too.’

Hannibal hated that he still felt so guilty about Abigail, but this wasn’t the time for therapy. Instead he slipped a hand under Will’s shoulder and lifted him up into an embrace, Will’s arms around his neck.

‘We will have a family one day. I promise.’ He swayed him gently, letting him hang heavy with each contraction. He began humming that calming tune and it seemed to work. Will became quiet and calm in between contractions, having all the support he needed from the man he loved.

Eventually Will seemed to be pushing with each surge, letting his body do what it needed, not even really being aware enough to let Hannibal know that things had changed. Hannibal smiled that he felt safe enough to submit to being in labour land, so much so that he felt bad asking things of him. It was, however, his duty as a doctor to make sure it was time.

‘Will.’ He said softly. ‘Can I check that you’re fully dilated?’

‘mmm’ he noised as he let himself be led over to their bed. 

Semi reclined, he struggled to see anything beyond his bump. It helped slightly with his feeling of exposure, but also made him feel separated from his partner. This deep in labour, it wasn’t really a thought so much as a deep aching feeling of loneliness. Thankfully Hannibal was fast with his examination, it being obvious that they were very near the end. He was about to report that everything was well when Will's belly once again tightened. He didn’t need to be told Hannibal’s findings, this was happening no matter what. As it began to build, that ache began to grip at his chest with increasing intensity.

‘Where are you?’ He whined, fear evident in his tone.

In no time at all Hannibal was back where he could be seen, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other in Will's vice grip. 

‘I’m right here my love. You’re doing so well.’

——————————————————————————————————————

40 minutes passed. Will had no clue that that was the case but Hannibal certainly did. Though he trusted the process, it was hard to keep his anxieties at bay. Will was really loud at this point and screamed through a few contractions. Hannibal's words said that he shouldn't be afraid, that it was ok to go with it, but there were moments when tears would prickle in his eyes and his mutterings became necessary for the both of them. 

'Keep going Will.'

He was lying on his side, the back pain and effort of staying upright having become too much. Hannibal noticed that he was pushing at his legs, grabbing at the sheets, flexing and tensing, anything except actually bearing down. 

'I can’t, I can’t. It hurts.' His voice was so small it was like a child's. 

'I know but you are so close. The baby is so close I can see his hair. Reach down and touch him.' 

'I don’t want to.' He sobbed.

He grabbed Hannibal’s hand as the next contraction tore through him. He screamed, lifting up his hips as his body pushed without his command.

‘Will. Don’t fight this.’ 

‘It’s not my baby. Why is this happening to me.’ He choked out the words.

‘Families don't always look like we expect.’

That voice wasn’t Hannibal’s.

He opened his eyes and through his haze, Will saw Abigail. Her long black hair and striking blue eyes were so kind. His daughter, his love had come to be his family through death. Entirely unusual. Perhaps this could reverse it. Put the teacup back together somehow. She smiled and took his hand. He felt her light rushing through him, giving him the energy he so desperately needed as the next contraction took hold.

‘Need to kneel.’ He said quietly, though Hannibal could already see a change in him.

With Hannibal pressing at his back and Abigail sitting beside him with her hand in his hair he pushed out the screaming boy. He was flooded with endorphins and tilted his head up to look at Abigail but she was gone. Somehow though he didn’t feel she was lost, nor replaced. Just that he was able to let go. He scooped up the slippery warm bubba and placed him on his chest, no hint of fear anymore. Though he wasn’t their child, both men were crying as Hannibal covered them with a towel.

When all was well Hannibal settled his exhausted but blissed out partner on the bed with Morgan. He perched himself beside them, giving the little one his finger to hold, imagining what it would be like when this was their family.

As though Will could sense his thoughts he said,

‘You aren’t teaching them to hunt until they are at least 16’.

Hannibal smiled and kissed the top of his head, ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

In the Verger mansion Alana and Margot sat snuggled together on the couch in front of the fire when Alana’s phone binged. It was a photo of their new son pink and sticky his eyes wide open in stunned wonder. They weren't the type of people prone to excessive displays of emotion so instead of screaming and jumping for joy Margot took her partners face in her hands, said ‘Fuck you Mason’ and kissed her more deeply than she'd ever done before.


End file.
